At Daybreak
by S. Jadevine
Summary: After the war, Johanna had no one to make her blood boil. Except for one.
1. Mad About the Boy

******A/N**: Had to write this one after listening to Ava Leigh's Mad About the Boy. I really like Johanna, ever since she slapped Katniss' face. And she nailed a rare chemistry with the love of my life. So, here it is. Hope you enjoy. :)

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**Mad About the Boy**

* * *

_Can't make up my mind about the boy_

_Sometimes he brings me down_

_Sometimes he brings me joy_

**SHE** throws the keys on the couch the moment she enters her apartment and goes straight in front of the mirror. Her uneven brown hair is starting to grow but she wishes it would grow faster. A fine‒looking hairbrush sits unused on the dresser screaming, _Hey! There's a reason why I'm here, brainless!_ The big, round eyes stare at her as she contemplates the reason why she is standing there, like a fool must perfectly exhibit. She presses a finger to smooth one too‒uneven eyebrow.

Why, even in this state, Johanna Mason can never be ignored.

And that stupid boy from Twelve did not even give her a second glance. Johanna had never felt more humiliated. _I'll let him see_, she thinks angrily. _I'll give that boy a dose of his own medicine__._

Here she is in Two, trying to help with all the mess because Paylor gave her a job here after she is certain that Annie would be fine with a relative in Four. And Gale Hawthorne had the nerve to ask what the hell she is doing in this district before he walked away like a true gentleman. God, had she known he would be that infuriating, she would have taken her axe with her so she could plant it into the bastard's arrogant head.

Still furious with all the mortification Gale had made her feel, she goes to the kitchen to have a beer. It may soothe her nerves; it used to. She plops down on the couch.

It isn't like her life, after all the horror it had faced for the past years, now revolves around making a fuss out of boys who do not notice her. In fact, it is the whole point of it. Johanna wants to worry and be annoyed by things as silly as her looks.

This is the diversion she needs so she can, even just for momentary lapses, forget that the world once turned its back on her.

And this after all was the entire point of the war. So they could go back to being as normal as they could be. Because however broken she is inside, all the shattered pieces — glass, if you may — are still there. At least. Maybe she can still glue them back together because somehow she refuses to die.

Johanna looks at her hands. She isn't a Victor or a rebel anymore. She is now only Johanna.

And what should she do with Only‒Johanna but to burden her with small things, like think about buying new things she could call hers or wonder how some snare‒maker's brain could be so addled to even register the beauty that his eyes has seen? God forgive her, but she is much better looking than Katniss, what with all the kinds of braids she'd sported.

Johanna laughs. She really wants another shot at normalcy and tall, gray‒eyed challenges could complete that.

She cannot help but smile evilly as a thought forms in her mind. _Boy, you're gonna regret the day when you walked out on Johanna Mason_, she chuckles.

Maybe she must have a few months without Gale first. It will give her the head start she needs.


	2. Inertia

**********A/N**: I was persuaded to give this story a chance. Hope I don't disappoint you. Song: Half Of My Heart (John Mayer).

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**Inertia**

* * *

_I was made to believe I'd never love somebody else_

_I made a plan, stay the man who can only love himself_

_One_**‒**_hundred and fifty_**‒**_seven days later…_

**FOR** some reason, Gale's head feels like it is about to explode any moment. It was one of those kinds of heartsick longing last night when he had to drown whatever sanity he had left on several bottles of beer. But he damn did not see what's coming for the next day.

Earlier this morning, one of his crew knocked on his apartment to alert him of some kind of emergency. He had to drag his drunken ass to the shower and get to the site as fast as he can. When he arrived, his men just had enough respect for him to let him sit down before they fired off their reports the way machine guns normally do. Gale underestimated District Two's loss. It has been almost a year since he moved here but they aren't still halfway to completing its restoration.

Now he is sitting here in as careless a way as possible, trying to analyze the situation like a true leader should. He chuckles. Katniss will probably laugh —

Gale stops himself.

It is at the very least better than when he is at the office. Paylor had this absurd obstinacy about giving him a workplace complete with a staff so he could organize his tasks without having to do it in the site. In point of fact, the new president gave the office first but he stubbornly refused it and requested to be assigned to construction instead. She gave him both of that, naturally. The president insisted that he take the former so he could retain certain privileges. Like he needs more of it.

The office given to him is on the top floor of a building which houses different sorts of people. There are the groupies who adore him so much they would take every opportunity to talk to him. Someone even bothered to climb all the way to the top floor just to ask him his clear**‒**sighted opinion about having some kinds of plants in the office. There are also the bureaucrats who obnoxiously do not seem to understand why he has an office and try to find any flaw in his plans so they could kick him out. And there are uninterested ones — those that consider his involvement in the war enough to land him an office but who do not seem affected by anything he does.

Still, Gale prefers to be in the site. The small office here is enough for him and he can relate to the workers here. After all, he worked in the mines.

He sighs. His head is really throbbing very painfully now but he still has to read one report. It is about the blown**‒**up mountain, the one he callously destroyed. His face turns hard at the thought.

There are times when he does not want to talk to the locals of District Two. He fears that he might be talking directly to a relative of someone he killed in that mountain. A daughter or a son who might be doing some illegal activities now because they lost their father and it is the only way they could feed their family…

"You know that piece of paper's really important. But you might as well be sending it to the bin," someone from the back observes.

Gale twists to look at the intruder, Rick, his right hand man. That was what the Capitol told him. Gale has never been known to trust easily but he gave the man a chance. Rick turned out to be an efficient employee and the two eventually got along well.

He looks down to see the slightly crumpled paper because _someone_ is holding it too tightly. He smirks. "It might as well be. It's about the Nut."

Rick does not even pretend to be surprised. He knows the story. "I thought you should see that ahead of schedule. That mountain needs to be repaired as soon as possible. It's still one of the most suitable locations for the Headquarters."

"I know. I'll read this through tonight," Gale says as he begins to massage his right temple. The dull pounding has turned worse.

Rick must sense his mood. "Look, man. You're almost done with those reports. They can wait until tomorrow. It doesn't help if you're gonna make decisions with that messed up head."

Gale chuckles. "That's comforting. Thanks."

"I mean it. And that's my job. To make sure my boss stays on his feet," Rick replies.

_Boss, my ass_. But Gale does not dare contradict the other man. Rick will only insist that it's true and that will only make him more authoritative than what he wants to believe. He drums his fingers on the table before standing.

"Okay. I'll be here tomorrow at seven. Thanks." Gale walks to the door.

He opens it just in time to be punched in the chest by a woman.


	3. So Someday

**********A/N:** This is especially dedicated to **mrs. becca**, who I was exchanging messages with when I finished this. Song: Gonna Get Over You (Sara Bareilles). Enjoy!

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**So Someday**

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_I'll be alright_

_Just not tonight_

_But someday_

"**OW**!"

Johanna stops herself from giving a curse when her fist lands on someone's chest instead of the supposed door but the next moment she finds herself thinking of the worst word in existence. Gale is standing in the doorway, clutching his chest and looking like he is already in throes of death. Then he sees her — first the look of surprise upon seeing her, then confusion as to why she is here, then back to the hard mask that had once entertained her some months ago. In a few seconds, this man has turned into an amazing spectrum of emotions.

"What the hell was that for?" Gale stares at her.

Johanna casually folds her arms on her chest and leans against the doorframe. "I didn't know you'd pass for a door, gorgeous," she says plastering the most innocent smile she can muster.

"Oh, is that a knock? And how exactly do you knock, Johanna?" Gale frowns, sarcasm oozing in his voice. She retorts by raising her brows as if to say that the answer is obvious.

Gale's lips form into something like _what_‒_the_‒_hell_ but he purses them quickly. If he has any idea as to why she barges into his office at this time of the day, he is good at hiding it. _The perfect soldier _—_ all stony and hard_, Johanna muses. She wonders if there is more to Gale than what meets the eye. Hers in particular, because she is damn good at scraping people's exteriors just by talking. And right now Gale isn't excellently falling for that.

The sound of someone clearing his throat interrupts them. A man is standing at the back with a look of amusement on his face, his eyes flitting from her to Gale. Gale still has his eyebrows furrowed when he introduces her to the man. "Johanna, this is Rick. Rick, Johanna from Seven," he says, eyes still firmly staring at her.

And Gale earns her respect a bit more when he does not mention anything about Victor or rebel. But then, who doesn't know her?

The smile Rick gives is accompanied by that same, old recognition. Johanna really has to deal with the fame until the day of her death. She smiles back. The guy's a looker enough to not be ashamed to stand beside Gale. He quickly gathers the stack of papers on the table before walking to the door. She moves aside so he can pass but before he leaves, he nods his head in Gale's direction. In a mockingly serious way he says, "Take care. I don't trust this man, really." Then he laughs when Gale shoots him a dirty look. Johanna decides to like the man.

"So."

Johanna reels to see Gale giving her the same dirty look. "To what do I owe your presence?" he says.

"Nothing important. I know no one here and I'm sick for months going to Four and back. I keep trying to convince Annie that she needs a new environment but she is stubborn as a dog. What's in Four, anyway?" she says.

It is not true that she is sick of visiting Annie. It's quite the opposite, in fact. The most recent pictures of them together have been livened up by the arrival of Nico, Finnick's kid. Her visits became more purposeful, knowing very well that she'd be seeing the son Finnick will never get to meet.

She looks back at Gale. "So you decided to pester me instead?" he asks, probably trying hard not to smile at her loquaciousness.

Johanna feels like Annie's eyes are boring into her right now. Knowing, yet soft and indulgent. Coolly aware of the woman's instability, Johanna decided to express herself to Finnick's wife without so much of a thought. Typically Annie only smiles, her deep green eyes gazing tenderly on Johanna's brown ones.

She told her about Gale — the infuriation she felt then, even her proposed schemes of destroying him although she did not phrase it like that. If she did, Annie would cover her ears and Johanna would lose her only accomplice.

So she swore to Annie she would make Gale fall for her, to which Annie responded by giggling, recounting how she herself promised to do that to Finnick. They laughed on the front porch of the house, two people with different levels of insanity. It's hilarious, thinking about it now.

Johanna snaps back to the present and sees Gale cocking his eyebrow, clearly waiting for her answer. Her thoughts are suddenly about him and Katniss. Thanks to Peeta, a bitter man stands in front of her, doubtlessly still holding on to that little braided girl. At least Johanna knows about Katniss and Peeta's love story, how the guy crept up on the girl. Like what Annie did. Like what she is about to do.

"That's my plan," Johanna nods. "Besides it's Sunday. What are you, a machine? Why are you even here? If you think you can forget her by working your ass off, then you're hopeless. That doesn't help a bit." Johanna shrugs, but Gale's face turns hard the moment she talks about _her_. He must think that she has no right to mention Katniss like she is nothing but a trivial topic in their mundane lives. She truly can ruin someone's day without exerting much effort.

"What's it to you?" Gale's voice is quiet, a promise of danger in the shadows.

Johanna's right — Gale is still affected. It does not actually surprise her. She had gone through the same thing. Had felt the same pain. Once, long ago. At least for her, the guy's dead. She really had no choice but to move forward. While Gale here… She pretends not to notice.

"I'm a very lonely woman. Humor me," she sighs dramatically.

Gale looks like he is merely patronizing a little girl, which is silly because she is older by what, a few months to less than a year. From what she's heard about his age. Really, it is starting to piss her off. The scope of her maturity is not limited to deciding who the better kisser was, for which Katniss spent half her time. She tilts her head.

Gale finally relents. "All right," he says. "It's almost lunch. My head's a torture so you decide. Where to?"

She smiles triumphantly and walks out without a word.


	4. Drifting

**********A/N:** I made this chapter to fill in the gaps about Gale's family since he moved to Two. Song: Learning to Breathe (Switchfoot). Hope you enjoy. :)

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**Drifting**

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_I could use a fresh beginning, too_

_All of my regrets are nothing new_

**THE** paper is still blank after a few seconds of Gale staring at it. No matter what he does, one face keeps turning up in his mind, fading in like a slideshow. But he does not believe for a moment that she's this important already to take his mind off the Nut‒rebuilding report. After all, the mind can do wonders. Maybe he does not want to think about the ruined mountain now.

Gale lays the paper down on the table. His eyes close as he rests his spine against the soft backrest of his seat.

He admits he enjoyed the afternoon with Johanna. She is a fun wreck. They ate lunch at this modest café by the street where the patrons are old people who probably still have the money and energy to spend on geriatric dates. Gale initially thought they looked out of place but Johanna just shrugged it off. The witch also took his words seriously when she sauntered her way towards the counter without bothering to ask him what he wanted to eat. Their food seemed…mellow. Salisbury steak and mincemeat pie? He felt like he got older, too.

But Johanna? If anything, she looks younger. _More beautiful_, he smiles. More full of life. But he cannot be sure about that. Looks, they always deceive. Johanna might still be harboring hatred and anger against anything, anyone. The war guaranteed misery for the rest of their lives no matter how many steps they take to heal. It's his case, so how different from him could she be?

Also he is still puzzled about her mission in Two. She told him that the president gave her a job here, but what career could she possibly have with stones and military? As far as he knows, her skill lies in axes and lumber. With all the mountains in this district, it could easily provide her a lucrative business. But she has that in Seven, too. There must be a reason why Johanna chose to transfer here.

He could almost picture Johanna throwing her axe on the trunk of a tree in the terrifying way that the whole Panem used to see. Strangely for him, he can also imagine her in _another_ way — the graceful sway of her hips, the soft waves of her young hair as she slinks toward him…

Gale forces himself to shut Johanna off his mind.

He opens his eyes only to stray around his apartment, now too large for him. His mother and his siblings live in the countryside for a couple of months now. Every project he completes assures him a big, fat check. So when he had saved enough money, he bought his mother a house situated on a hill that overlooks the district. He wanted his family to be as far from the metropolitan rigmarole as possible. And he wanted them far away enough to not see how he is wasting his every night pining for the girl who used to be his.

Until now Gale cannot believe how deeply he has come to understand Haymitch Abernathy. Being drunk makes him forget. Just forget. As in forget.

Or, when he is drunk enough, he cons himself into believing that maybe, maybe there is something good at the bottom of the bottle and he had to drink every drop to even get a glimpse of it. The same old song, over and over.

He is a miserable fool.

In time, maybe he'll grow to be the eternal inebriate that the old Victor had become. Hell, he is never a Victor but he might as well be.

Gale chuckles. _And I'm back to zero_, he thinks drily.

With this thought in mind, he goes to the fridge and opens a bottle.


	5. Seeing Scarlet

**********A/N:** Sorry for the delay. Song: Sexy Silk (Jessie J).

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**Seeing Scarlet**

* * *

_A kiss can last all night_

_You'll have to seduce me_

_Nibble and bite_

**RED** seems to be the color of the day.

It's in the roses on the front lawn of a house that she decided to notice as she walked to work earlier. It's in the blouse of the bitch that bumped into her like she was the only one in a hurry. It's in the umbrella of an ice cream stand along the street. And the damned color is smeared sweetly on her lips.

The thing with red is, it turns anyone on. Like a smoldering flame, it can ignite heat even in the coldest of airs. A bloodstain will stand out in snow‒coated grass. Johanna totally knows its power and she is going to take advantage of it. Today.

No, it's not for someone else. One would think that when a woman wears the cursed color it only means that something devious is being worked on. Please.

Of course Johanna is up to _something_.

The questionable thing is if there is really no someone else. Someone other than her? Most likely. Then there is only one someone‒else.

She cannot wait to get out of this conference.

Johanna sighs as she tries to listen to the chattering woman in front of her whose hair, by the way, brought upon her recollection on red things. They are _addressing_ the potential of the locals living in the suburbs to contribute more human resources. Honestly, the district is running low on workers.

"…their needs and preferences into the policy process…to help mitigate these shortcomings…"

Whatever.

She's been in this job for almost six months. She has completed projects and this one — she has been to the site herself. What need is there for this kind of boring talk?

"…sectoral focus on the indigent…to scrutinize public institutions…"

She drums her fingers on the table. Her patience is thinning fast. It's coming loose.

The bitch that bumped her earlier did not get away easily. She is Johanna, the bitchier. If there is one thing that is not going to disappear, it is the ruthlessness that others have become accustomed to seeing in her. Anyway it's a slow‒motion kind of revenge. One, two, bump. One, two, turn back. One two, raise eyebrows. One, two, lift foot. One, two, trip. And —

CRASH!

The pathetic office girl, all blouse and briefcase, made dirty love to the shiny floor. Papers flew everywhere, including her. Johanna did not even bother to hide her smirk.

"…some holistic frameworks…"

_Patience, patience_. Coming loose, coming loose.

Johanna settles on tapping the cap of her pen upside‒down on the table.

All this talk is getting her nowhere. These are just empty words again and she cannot wait to get to the actual work where she can really _communicate_ like she is supposed to.

Surprisingly, the people in the suburbs are one cooperative set. She has been there last week on her day off. Unfortunately, she is not trying hard to be a workaholic like _someone_ she knows. It is just that the trees are more abundant there than here in the town center so she decided to check it out. Her axe, that beautiful thing, is not with her since it is taking an indefinite leave in her house in Seven. And she misses it so terribly. Not that she misses swinging it across human flesh.

But… The sound that comes from the repeated chopping of a tree and then its deafening fall on the earth. Her sticky grip on the handle of the axe, the strength it requires to just lift it high above the ground. The sylvan scent that assaults her senses, tempting her to close her eyes, all the while mingling with the smell of her sweat.

She crinkles her nose. God, she can even remember how she smelled every after chopped tree.

"…draft diagnostic tools…"

That's it. The next second, Johanna's hand shoots up in the air. She tilts her head when the speaker stops talking to give way to her.

"I have a suggestion. Why don't we skip all that crap and we go to the actual fun?"

"Miss Mason, I know this isn't strictly your area of specialization. All of us here know that you are — "

"A douche," Johanna nods. "That's how I roll. But if we pretend to play nicely here, fine. I suggest we postpone this conference and go out in the field first. That way we can all agree — at least — on how the people operate there. It's no use trying to formulate tactics now without even getting the slightest idea on what the concerned residents want."

An older man, probably Beetee's age, leans forward to the table's center. He is almost bald, save for a few strands of hair on his crown.

"See here, Miss Mason. I've been a resident of Two for almost four decades now and I'm quite sure I know full well 'how the people operate' here," the old guy says, quoting her.

She scoffs. "Really? Well, then, what do you think they want?"

"Monetary compensation is always thorny, but also a very reliable trick," he says, the awful trace of confidence in his voice.

_And this guy claims he knows everything_, Johanna tries hard to keep her eyes from rolling.

"How are we gonna settle that? Have you talked about other benefits? What are their conditions? From what I've known, they are not happy to be subjected again into slavery."

"Goodness! How on earth is slavery — "

"Employment then."

Some of the people in the room shift uncomfortably in their seats. The atmosphere turns hungry. But that must be because Johanna is starting to feel her acidic stomach. Good thing it has not growled yet.

Estelle, an angel in disguise, also starts to talk. "Miss Mason's right. It's like in a court. We cannot decide on this if we haven't collated enough evidence."

Unfortunately for Johanna and Estelle, both of them are still regarded as tenderfoots in the sphere of governmental decision‒making. Sure they trained, but these insufferable creatures in the room agree on sidestepping that fact.

And she is right. The old guy, whom Johanna decides to call Simpson, chuckles at them. "What a bad association, Miss Blake. You have to come up with something better than that."

Poor Estelle turns crimson at the snide comment. Johanna pretends to look at her watch before she decides to interfere. _Okay, Simpson._ "Let's not get personal. It's lunch break. Let's cool off, be back, and then insult each other again. How 'bout that?"

She turns toward the door before she can see Simpson's reaction. Estelle is on her side immediately. "Thanks," she mumbles.

"That's a hundred bucks, brainless," Johanna grins at her. Estelle playfully nudges her.

Estelle is one of the very few people who can nudge her like that and still get away with it. There isn't much choice, really. They were the only young trainees in the three months of learning the whys and wherefores of administrative management. She would go insane if she were not going to talk to anyone. Well, if Gale just did not shoo her away that fateful day.

Also there is something in Estelle that is different from others. To the other people in this building, she is a nobody. A boring, shy office person that is commonly seen only by the people in their floor. Estelle is standoffish, her echt personality veiled. Nobody knows much about her because she chose to.

"Let's go to that cute diner down the road! My treat," Estelle winks at her.

Johanna looks at the face of the woman in front of her but her mind strays before she can even catch up to hold its reins. It traipses toward someone irresistibly handsome — and unbearably annoying.

"Save your money for tonight. I heard that bar we've been waiting for just opened," Johanna sneakily pacifies her.

And when they part ways, Johanna hurriedly catches a cab.


	6. Comparisons

******A/N**: This and the next few chapters will focus on a lot of flirting, but more so on a promising friendship. Song: Everybody Talks (Neon Trees). That said, enjoy. :) And, darlings, let's just ignore the food. (;

* * *

**Comparisons**

* * *

_Hey, sugar, show me all your love_

_All you're giving me is fiction_

**GALE'S** current project requires rebuilding the stone bridge that connects the two biggest villages in the southern part of the district. Even when the war destroyed the bridge, this area is still mostly unadulterated. A placid lake lies underneath the viaduct and is made more picturesque by the wild flowers and the willows with their overgrown branches dipping on the water. A meadow is nearby and it is where Gale's staff takes camp.

Restoring the bridge is almost done. The last precast material has been delivered just this morning and the workers have been very eager to finish it that they have started immediately. That sense of achievement has gotten into Gale, too, and so he has assisted his staff in all possible ways — driving the truck of stones around the site, operating the equipment that holds the cables, carrying heavy loads of stones and bricks, coordinating with his engineers as to what can still be done, and carrying more stones and bricks.

So by the time the sun peaks over their heads, Gale's white shirt already looks gray with dirt and sweat and his midnight hair is drenched. One of the engineers is talking to him about designing the roads on both ends of the bridge with paving stones when a cab arrives. Rick emerges out of one of the car's doors wearing an impish smile that says something bad is going to happen. Naturally, Gale turns to see the cab's other door open to reveal Johanna. He excuses himself and goes toward the newly arrived pair.

As Johanna takes time going out of the car, Rick strides forward most probably to fill him in. "Some hot chick went to your office, Your Highness. She demanded to see you," he teases.

"Shut up."

Rick grins before he goes toward one of the workers. Without his subordinate obstructing the view, Gale finally looks at the woman walking towards him. He regards her brazenly.

She is wearing clothes that are inappropriate for her. When it comes to Johanna, appropriate clothes mean no clothes at all. So it's a bit surprising to see her in a tunic that reaches half her thighs, which are hidden in black skin‒fitting jeans and leather boots. He can see a pattern is forming and maybe it is going to stay for good. For someone trying to change her fashion taste, Johanna pulled it off.

"Did I make the cut?" Johanna's lips curve into a smile, one that is bordering on…sensual. His eyes land on her mouth, which Gale firmly believes, is asking to be kissed. _She can't be that alluring_, he thinks.

But Gale still has a little dignity left so he smirks and says, "Can't decide if you're better off with that or nothing at all."

She tries to look scandalized but fails extravagantly. "Careful, Hawthorne. You might find yourself unable to decide at all," she leers.

He chuckles. This is one of the things he likes about Johanna. He can talk dirty and she can go well along with him. Her abrasive attitude equals his, as though they are two friction matches that could put fireworks to shame. She is so much different from Katniss who blushes and stammers just by looking at him shirtless.

"May I ask why you're here?" He asks in a fake polite tone, all the while raising his eyebrows. It might be good to hear from the lady herself.

But then Johanna's eyes turn round and big and, if possible, more richly brown. To add to that effect, she bites her lower lip so that Gale sees the pretentiously innocent girl who won by deception in the Games. "I'm — I'm starving," she falters, high‒pitched.

Gale's deep voice reaches his staff as he laughs at Johanna's short performance. Everyone stops whatever they are doing and stares at the two who look like they are in a world of their own. Gale could not care less. He has forgotten that side of Johanna that it's startling to see it now. Refreshing, even. She can be a witch, a flirt, and a distressed damsel all in a span of five minutes. He stares at the smiling actress in front of him.

"Will you have me with all the dirt and sweat? I might embarrass you," he asks.

"S'fine," Johanna shrugs insouciantly, resting one foot against the bark of a tree. "Besides I'll axe anyone who calls you ugly." She winks.

"Pfft. I doubt that," Gale adds in a teasing way.

"Oh, now we're so mightily arrogant, aren't we?" she chuckles.

"I don't know. Everyone keeps telling me the opposite of what you just said."

"Dream on, bighead."

This time it is Gale's turn to wink at her. Before Johanna can make up a retort, he turns his back on her and walks towards the table where the workers all huddle around. While he gives instructions to Rick, his eyes stay on Johanna who has begun to survey the lush environment in wistful wonder.

_She must miss the woods in Seven_, Gale muses even though they are not technically in a forest.

He cannot admit she has caught him off guard again without being ashamed about it. She barges into him every chance she gets, but in a way it's like she is creeping up on him, too. And he does not want to acknowledge that her strategy is quietly devouring him. Gale is not sure what Johanna is up to, whether she wants some kind of a transitory sexual connection or just pure but riotous friendship. Either way he is treading dangerously on her waters. If he falls for her tactics, Gale may not be able to handle another rejection.

So when he walks back to her, a plan is simmering in his brain. Not really something grand, just one small scheme for today. He takes note how she is dressed up because even her dark brown hair is a little less messy — longer than he has ever seen but still spiky. He smiles evilly.

ooOoo

**THEY** are standing in front of a cafeteria that looks like it has seen better days. Dilapidated windows cover the façade and the door's handle appears to be broken. Letters are missing from its name that it is now DAM'. Very few people walk on the road, most of which must be some kind of mobsters.

Johanna does not look scared. Gale is not actually surprised about that. He has seen her fight during the war even without her faithful axe. And that is saying something. No, what he wants to see in her face is annoyance. Irritation, because she is outwitted. Gale is certain he has not witnessed Johanna at her worst. He is looking for that and he should be the reason behind that. Maybe when it happens, he will make her lay down all her cards.

Johanna lifts her head towards him. Her eyes give the worst glare and that instant Gale believes that he has triumphed. Her arms fold defensively across her chest.

"Why here?" Johanna speaks through gritted teeth.

"This place suits the clothes I wear right now," he says coolly.

She takes a step back as if she thinks about walking out on him. Gale tries so, so hard to hide his smirk. This is victory long overdue ever since Johanna taunted him and called him gorgeous for the first time in that hospital room in Thirteen.

But then her face smoothes and transforms into nonchalance, without a trace of the previously unconcealed disgust. It is as if he merely dreamed about it. The playful sneer that Gale is tempted to reveal quickly vanishes and is replaced by a grimace.

"Then let's get in, gorgeous," Johanna says smugly, adding insult to injury. Her legs stride to close the gap between her and the entrance. Before he can blink, she is already on the other side of the door and he is left outside still puzzled about her erratic behavior.

Inside the cafeteria, certain activities are taking place. On one table, playing cards are laid as four men gamble and many onlookers stand behind them. On another, three men are drinking liquor. One of them waves at Gale. His name is Franco and he used to work with him during one of his projects. He nods back.

Actually, quite a number of patrons in this cafeteria know him. Here he is a hero ever since he saved this place from being closed down. For him, perfection is not perfection without retaining a few of its flaws. Every society has its own dregs and even they have to be taken care of. One small, un‒classy cafeteria is not going to ruin Panem. So he talked the one in charge of demolishing the building into sparing it.

Gale looks around. Aside from the buff man behind the counter, Adam, there are no other patrons at this time of the day. Chairs are still up the table. Johanna is already at the counter, looking at the wall that tells of all the food the cafeteria appears to offer.

"I'll have that one, alfredo rutabaga," she mutters as though the name itself gives the irrevocable proof of its blandness. Adam stares unblinkingly at her; he must be surprised since women come here rarely.

"That's phased out," Adam speaks.

"Okay. That one then, grilled herb mustard steak." Johanna points her index finger to the man. "That sounds a hell lot better but I haven't heard of it either."

"Seasonal."

"Potato and cheese frittata."

"Nah."

This time Johanna slams her hands on top of the counter. "Do you really serve food here?"

"Sandwiches. Beans. Soups. Salads." Adam's monotonous voice is really admirable.

"Then why not take that damn wall down? Why are you even open?" Johanna's voice is a pitch higher. Adam is starting to be pissed off, too, but she looks like she does not care a whit. She exasperatedly rolls her eyes and turns to Gale.

He laughs and approaches them. "The whole package, Adam. But could you add more sour cream to the salad?" Gale grins at the man who lightens up upon seeing him.

"Sure thing, Gale. And, jeez, I thought your girlfriend's trying to commit suicide by just storming in the cafeteria, looking like some lovely bitch on the run, and slamming loudly on the counter. It turns out you're the one who wanna die today by bringing her here," Adam chuckles.

"She isn't gonna attract trouble, my friend. I assure you that," Gale says, lifting his hand in the air to hold an imaginary hat as a form of salute. He does not bother to correct the _girlfriend_ part.

Let the lovely bitch complain.

When Adam goes into the kitchen, Gale turns to an irate Johanna beside him. He cocks an eyebrow at her. "I get to order for us this time, right? Since your precious — " He scans the wall of meal offers. " — rutabaga, mustard steak, and frittata are on indefinite leave, and you know…" He trails off when he sees the look she is giving him.

"If I get out of this place more famished and late to work, you'll never see the sun tomorrow, Hawthorne. What are we gonna eat here?" she hisses.

"Where did you take the girl just a while ago, Johanna?" Gale's voice is a calm drawl. He is way past death threats.

"Don't wish for her. If you haven't noticed, the thing she always does is destroy."

"I'm scared."

"Try feeling that for real."

Gale laughs and shakes his head foolishly. It's funny how he cannot take her words seriously as though he is unaware of how vicious she had been in the arena. Like Katniss. But of course Johanna is so much like Katniss. Both women are as misunderstood by most people in Panem. Sometimes when he comes to think of it, he realizes how much he had not taken Katniss seriously, too.

Backtrack.

He tilts his head in the direction of vacant tables. Johanna walks toward one beside the window without bothering to speak to him. He pulls down the chairs where thick layers of dust seem to have settled and plops down on one without caring to wipe it. She does the same but with her entire face turned toward the window.

Gale decides to break the silence. "Their salad's one of a kind, I promise."

"It better be. Or you're gonna have to pay for all of it," Johanna mumbles.

"Trust me. And of course it's all on me. I'm the one responsible for upsetting the little girl," Gale smiles. This time it is a genuine smile — with that un‒genuine remark.

"Good," she mutters, still looking outside. Then she turns to glance at him and sees him smiling. Johanna cannot help but smile a little, too. "You look like an idiot," she says.

"That makes two of us," he says.

"Oh, shut up."

Gale looks away. It's clear that they are just messing with each other now but he also really wants to know something serious about her. It is still a little baffling. And if he is to be totally honest with himself, he can see Johanna is going to distract him for a bit longer. Just a bit longer because who knows what this woman is going to do next.

He also knows that being serious is far from her mind now. Christ, they barely survived a war. What any of them wants — in their sane minds — is to get away from all the misery and grief of losing everything. For a long time. So when Gale's eyes return to Johanna's face, he tries to phrase the questions that threaten to hinder his judgment.

"Am I really the only one you know here?" he says casually.

Johanna crosses her arms again. "I'm not an outcast, you know. I actually have someone in our floor who worships me so much she wants me to move in with her."

Gale quips. "I didn't know you prefer women. What's her name?"

"Oh, very funny," she says. "Estelle."

"Then why don't you move in with her?"

"For what? Saving on rent? C'mon, Paylor herself has employed us. We both know how generous she is. Although I can't really say that I don't deserve it, what with all the infuriation I feel every time I talk to the other — " Johanna rolls her eyes, " — officials."

Okay, Gale must really believe her kind of work now. He is doubtful at first because working for the government is something that does not suit Johanna. It is not about her capability of handling it; it is about her having the persistence to do it. If there is one thing he definitely knows about Johanna Mason, it is that she is one impatient person. Now he is wondering what exact governmental job she has gotten herself into.

"What are doing for Paylor?" he asks.

"Communications."

Gale raises an eyebrow.

Johanna frowns at him. "I don't necessarily do the diplomatic negotiations. That's the reason why the others have their jobs. I'm the one who relates to the people, getting them to cooperate — sometimes even being a bitch so they'd get a little intimidated — with the government, knowing what they want and being able to compromise."

Gale knows she has left out the difficult part but he just smiles. "I never doubted that."

Johanna looks like she does not expect this kind of response from him. She scrunches her brows more tightly. "That what?"

His smile turns into a bigger grin. "Being a bitch."

Johanna glares at him. Then she starts to laugh — _continuously _— which infects Gale. They just look so silly at that moment, in that place, that it is hard not to crack at the slightest joke.

"You should see some of their faces," Johanna says in between laughs. "Priceless."

"You can show me," Gale says.

She appears to consider this. "Possibly. Gonna think about it first."

"And why's that?" he asks.

She just shrugs her shoulders. "They're a boring bunch."

"Must be miserable in your work," Gale mutters.

"You couldn't have said better. How about you? Is Rick the only one who can stand you?"

Gale pretends to scowl at her. "I have constant companions aside from Rick, you know," he imitates the tone she used a while ago. "And unlike you, I enjoy the company of my co‒workers," he counters with a cheery voice.

"What an awfully misled boy," she says before she sticks out her tongue that he wants to laugh. Again.

Their lunch arrives and it is when Gale gathers that food is the only thing in the world that can absolutely bring about the little girl in Johanna. She stops harassing him the moment the salad touches her lips. She might have even forgotten he is sitting opposite her.

He realizes he has not obtained any serious information about her. But again Gale finds himself unable to make a big deal of it. Smiling, he lets himself enjoy the food.

None of them realizes that while they are in the middle of their meals, the clock strikes one.


	7. A Beautiful Mess

**************A/N**: So this is long. Please bear with me on the first half of this story. Hopefully the second half will make up for it as it's quite angsty and maybe funny and romantic at the same time. Song: Let Me In (Gabrielle Aplin)

* * *

**A Beautiful Mess**

* * *

_So if blood runs through your veins_

_Don't you suppose it's such a waste_

_To be composed in such a way_

**JOHANNA **is pretty absorbed at the moment.

She is reading an old report about the request of a village to have a clinic. This was even before the war and the Capitol, being what it was, ignored the petition. Now they are going to grant the request in the hope that the villagers in turn agree to contribute more labor in the reconstruction of the district's business center. Well, almost. Actually, she has yet to convince the other officials to work out on a negotiation.

No matter what most of them say, the people living in the suburbs have grown to be quite self‒sufficient. The war proved its harshness on the locals when supplies from other districts ceased to come. They virtually have no choice but to explore their mountainous terrain for survival. Struggled to learn how to grow plants that usually grew in the woods, those kinds of things. Politics, it turned out, did not do them any favor. So no one can blame them for wanting nothing more to do with the current regime.

It is her idea to sort through old Capitol files and look for deficiencies. Johanna believes that the villagers still have those kinds of weak spots and she can use those to persuade the locals. It sounds duplicitous, taking advantage of their helplessness to achieve the government's ends, but they cannot be in a deadlock for longer. If it is any consolation, Johanna will do her best to settle on remuneration that gives back more than what the people deserve.

She looks at the clock. It is almost lunch and there is no question as to where she is going. She does not need to 'gatecrash' this time, since Gale invited her two days ago to come to the site today. It is the last day of their project and Gale wants to give the workers some sort of a celebration.

She looks back at the file she is reading. She is smart; Johanna knows that. But sometimes, reading and analyzing reports like these deplete her humongous storage of brain cells. It's a little overstimulating, with the exhaustive details all put in a few sheets of paper. Attached to that problem is the dull screaming in her head that pressures her to strategize as soon as possible.

_Fucking deadlines_, she thinks.

Johanna has not taken a break ever since she sat behind her desk this morning. She deserves one now. The report was then put inside one of the drawers that Johanna takes the time to lock. Chuckling to herself, she lightly punches the closed trunk. Maybe she will always be a bit more suspicious than the rest of the people in this building. The government will never earn her trust fully, even if it is Paylor now and the war is over.

Unexpected rattles on the door tell her that Estelle's on the other side. Johanna started this tradition of brutal knocking with a distinctive rhythm of its own. In its exactitude, the door opens to reveal Estelle.

"You're gonna go missing again for lunch," she chides.

Johanna attempts to imitate a badly drawn smiley. It may take a longer time to get used to Estelle's openness in expressing her emotions and thoughts — so uncomfortably candid. "Save it, Grandma. Sometimes I worry that you're gonna contaminate me and I might run around telling people how my sun shines when I'm with them," Johanna smirks.

Laughing, Estelle jokes back. "You're giving me ideas. You know that, right?" she threatens lightheartedly.

Johanna pretends to throw up before talking seriously again. She asks Estelle if she wants to come with her.

"Sure!"

Estelle really needs to start reconsidering her invitations. "Not so fast, brainless. We're gonna be late," Johanna warns.

The other woman merely rolls her eyes. "Why are you going to a reconstruction site, anyway?"

"I'm rethinking my job," Johanna quips as she begins to organize her stuff.

"Nice try."

"Christ, just get your things and be surprised," she waves her hand intolerantly toward the door.

Estelle is out before Johanna can even say _shoo_.

ooOoo

**IT** is that overexcited kind of commotion when Johanna and Estelle arrive. The workers are so keyed up for their banquet and are therefore moving hurriedly in different directions that Johanna cannot find the one she is looking for. _He must be here_, she thinks. Her feet strays a bit farther from the meadow, leaving Estelle on her own.

From where she is standing, Johanna feels like she is facing a life‒sized painting of a yet unknown world. The only movements from the lake are the ripples of water made by passing birds and the falling of leaves from the overhanging willow trees. A variegated set of wild flowers grow in abundance around the natural pool. For the most part of a nanosecond, she forgets why she is in the place. Then someone shouts from a distance and Johanna snaps back. She decides to continue her search.

She is starting to grow impatient when a hand touches her shoulder. As a reflex, she spins toward her right and grips someone's wrist tightly. Gale's steely eyes frown at her.

"Still distrustful, aren't we?"

"You are _so_ soundless. I didn't hear you," she explains nonchalantly — almost — because Gale does not appear keen on escaping her firm grasp. She skirts around this realization by continuing her excuse. "I'm a little rusty. You'd more likely have a broken spine by now, hunter."

Gale makes a _tsk_‒ing sound. "Probably a bit rustier than you think," he says before Johanna feels her other hand being lifted. She did not sense his hand closing in on hers either. "How are you gonna break my spine when we're in a stalemate, Johanna?" His voice becomes that condescending drawl again. She involuntarily looks down and sees that his legs are positioned in a way that can easily entrap her once she makes a move. Self‒consciousness kicks in and she lets go of his hand.

Gale asks. "So, why are you here?"

"Let me see. You invited me?" Johanna retorts.

"I meant here, near the lake."

Of course she will never say she is looking for him. And, boy, is she getting better at keeping her thoughts to herself. Rather, she pretends to grumble. "You ask so many questions. Why don't you just ask me if I want food already?"

"Sorry," Gale says, laughing, making her feel like she is that temperamental adolescent again. He asks her if she wants to eat, but Johanna quickly waves her hand dismissively. "So, the bridge's finished," she mutters instead.

"Yeah," he answers briefly.

"What happened right after?"

"Some cheers, some bottles opened," he shrugs, blasé. Gale must have completed so many projects to be excited about this one.

Johanna's eyes drift toward the large tent where most of the people are preparing. She can see Estelle and Rick talking, the former looking annoyed and the latter appearing as if he is teasing her and enjoying it. Johanna cocks her eyebrows.

"So," Gale says, making her gaze focus back to him. He is also staring at the tent. The discreet proximity between them suddenly becomes the sole occupant in her mind. "You've brought your friend."

"Yeah."

Johanna does not know how and when words abandoned her. Her face changes direction, away from the sight of him. She resorts to gazing back at the odd couple under the tent.

A few awkward seconds pass until both of them are startled when Rick catches them staring. He stands and waves his hand as if to signal that food's on the table so Johanna and Gale begin to make their way to the meadow.

Gale's crew is accommodating, Johanna takes in, as they introduce themselves to her and Estelle. They have even already filled their plates with different kinds of dishes — coconut shrimp, spicy salmon, pickled herring, fried fish, and boiled lobster. There is a cheery atmosphere among them that it is hard for her to retaliate when Gale makes fun of her plate full of food.

She properly introduces Estelle to Gale since she and Rick seem to know each other already. Estelle's garrulous nature comes out at once.

"So you're the reason Johanna keeps disappearing at lunch," she says animatedly, to which Gale only smiles. Thankfully. He walks back to her with his own plate. "Don't look so smug," she mutters so only he can hear.

The food is superb. It appears that Gale had them especially ordered because seafood is still considered a delicacy in Two. As usual, Johanna concentrates solely on her plate and deliberately ignores the figure on her side. She only looks up from ravishing her lobster when someone mentions her name.

"Um, Miss Mason? Do you happen to know someone in your office named Edith?" a middle‒aged worker shyly inquires.

Mouth full, Johanna cannot do anything but nod. She knows someone with that name working in the building's canteen, a woman with a ready smile for everyone.

The man must see her difficulty in answering his question because he quickly says, "No need to answer straightaway. No need."

To her rescue, Estelle asks, "Is she that friendly cashier in the canteen?"

The man smiles fondly at her. "She's my wife."

Gale passes her a glass of water, which she empties the glass, not leaving a drop. Eyes now watery, Johanna scans the tent. Then something dawns on her. She inches closer to Gale. "Does any of your workers live in Fairstone?" she mutters, referring to the village they are dealing with.

Gale pauses, scanning the crowd, too. Then he says, "Charlie, that one leaning against the pole. Why?"

"We're dealing with that village's residents and I think I might need to talk to someone who lives there. Just me and him. I need to have it my way," she explains. Gale's face contorts into a grimace.

"See you've gotten that kind of issue, too," he says.

"Yes, and someday I'm gonna destroy them like this lobster," she says, holding the shell of her victim amid the massacred shrimps. "Big time."

Gale laughs and both of them return to their set aside plates. She takes a mental note to talk to Charlie later. In a few minutes, their conversation takes its place in the back of Johanna's mind, intent on not spoiling this sunny afternoon.

ooOoo

**JOHANNA** watches the wasted carousers moving wildly on the dance floor. She simply isn't in the mood. Right after the celebratory lunch she shared with Gale and his team this afternoon, she went straight to Fairstone with Charlie to survey more of the area before she headed back to the office. Then she spent the rest of the day glazing over reports and speaking sardonically to everyone. She is tired.

But it is the kind of tired that's not gonna make someone fall asleep right away, especially if that someone has too many thoughts rioting inside her brain. Johanna wants to make sure she passes out once she dumps her body onto the softness of her bed.

And so here she is in this bar, sitting all alone and drinking a vodka soda that is not really a vodka soda. But it is half‒empty already.

She is not completely on her own. In fact, she turns her gaze to the center of the stage and instantly sees one particularly demented girl dancing with a guy who looks more sober than her. Estelle is the one who dragged her into this place, a new one apparently. She also tried to pull her toward the middle of the floor and did not stop until Johanna threatened to punch her face.

She cannot understand why she is still putting up with Estelle's contradictory attitude. But… Are they really the opposing sides of a coin? Now that she comes to think of it, Johanna realizes the weighty similarities between them. The sarcasm — only with Estelle it is subtler, while more unrestrained with her. The deceit. The ruthless truth that they no longer have a family. She recollects a certain memory when Estelle confronts her as to why she's being mean, prompting Johanna to tell her that she is nothing but an unremarkable bitch who's just lucky enough to have survived this long.

"_How about we start with the fact that you don't have a family and I don't have a family, and it's bullshit if you believe it'll stop there? You, too, have survived this long because no one cared enough about you, Johanna."_

That hit a nerve. She slapped Estelle's face and Estelle slapped her face back. After that, she guesses everything took its course. She found herself begrudgingly eating lunch with her, then chatting with her about meaningless things, hanging out with her, insulting her and being insulted back.

It is not that Johanna is a bore. Several women in the office get along enough with her to accept her spiteful demeanor. They are after all in District Two, where the people are nasty enough to view the Games as prestigious. Occasionally, she even accepts invitations to hang out. Maybe it is Johanna herself because sometimes the conversations get too superficial to keep her interested.

She deliberately lets her teeth chatter in slow rhythms as she stirs her drink with its fancy straw. It is a bit late but still too early to go home.

She sets aside the unfinished beverage and goes to order a different one when something outside catches her attention. Her feet deviate from their itinerary and stride toward the door.

Her sense of sight is still incredibly accurate, she finds out.

By the side of the road, Gale is leaning against a streetlight pole. He does not look drunk. But that arresting lean on the post, closed eyes, hands inside the side pockets of his pants, he is the quintessence of weariness. Just like her. _No surprise_, she thinks, as she approaches him.

"Fancy seeing you here, gorgeous."

One eye opens to gaze at her. He smiles. "You know, that label will ultimately, completely get into my head. When that happens, you'll never hear the end of it."

She chuckles. "Isn't it already?"

He laughs softly. "Suit yourself. So what are you doing here?"

"That's the second time you've asked me that question. Aren't there a few good questions up your sleeve?" she bites at him.

"Just can't help being surprised at seeing you in these kinds of places."

"Like how surprised I am at seeing you in these kinds of places," she retorts.

Gale's face turns to the other side so she cannot see his reaction. He must want to be alone. His attractive physique aside, Johanna has not thought about seeing Gale in bars, having fun just because he can. She always pictures him as serious, always remembers the dangerous rebel back when they are in Thirteen. Maybe she truly does not know him that much.

Johanna's about to rattle on again when he speaks in a way that only she can hear, even though no one really pays attention to them.

"Come with me."

Her head suddenly snaps upward as she drinks in Gale's expression. He is possibly tipsy underneath the sober façade but…

She mumbles, "What?"

"Come with me," he repeats patiently. "I'll show you something."

Right. At this time of the night. But Johanna recovers quickly. She scowls. "What makes you think I'm going with you that easily?"

He shrugs. "Just hoping."

Another unanticipated statement. As far as she knew, Gale is not the type who _hopes_. She unwittingly makes a clicking sound with her teeth. "Will it be something I'd like? Because if not, I can't leave Estelle even though she pisses me off."

"Depends," he says. "You can come back here if you like. It won't be long."

Johanna stares into his eyes. It is not hard to decide, really. But it is also the one thing keeping her from saying yes — not having second thoughts about it.

_Just say yes_, a sweet part in her brain urges. _Aren't you looking for some excitement?_

So she sighs. "Where to?"

ooOoo

**SOME** people might find it sinister to be standing on a bridge in semi‒darkness but not Gale. And probably not Johanna. All she feels at the moment is bewilderment. Besides, the cab Gale rented was just down by the road.

The moon is bright tonight. Their bodies are the only moving silhouettes as Johanna walks toward Gale while he is already climbing to sit on the bridge's railing, opening a bottle of champagne afterward. They bought it at a shop that was about to close. Luckily, Gale made it to the door before the storeowner started to lock it and he agreed to sell to them. Then Gale hailed a cab while she sent Estelle a message telling her to wait at the bar.

Sitting next to him in the back seat of the car, Johanna's previous suspicion is confirmed. The typical aroma of alcohol — along with Gale's own scent — whiffed around her, tempting her to inch closer, closer, closer. It took all her willpower to not jump on his lap and rip his clothes apart. He smells _that_ good.

From where he is rested on the bridge's stone support, Gale looks at her. He raises an eyebrow when he sees her just standing there and gestures for her to sit down next to him. Gale takes a swig from the bottle and then offers it to her. The heat of the liquid travels down her throat.

For a while, they are silent. The only sounds they hear are the chirping crickets that seem to serenade them. The wind gently blows Johanna's hair, passing in through the spaces created by every strand.

It is Gale who speaks first.

"Each time I finish a project, each time I build something, I always spend an hour alone with it. Crazy, huh," he chuckles, his voice made deeper by the wine.

"A bit," Johanna answers quietly. She is mistaken, what she assumed this afternoon. Gale's uninterested reply regarding the bridge is just a mask. In his shoes, she would be just as proud. Just as fulfilled.

This is another side of Gale Hawthorne. He keeps on surprising her with his every move, his every reason for doing something, his every thought expressed. It makes her feel slightly disconcerted.

"It's just nice to have a bit of a change," he whispers, his head lifting an inch.

So that's it.

Her hazel eyes linger on his silver ones. Gale is only a part of his former self. The rest still lives in a past where he believes that everything he did, something was destroyed and someone got hurt. She is almost certain nobody else realized how lonely this man has become.

Somewhere in Johanna refuses to let Gale carry on wasting his life.

"You're wrong," she says after a few minutes.

Gale snorts, looking away. "How wrong do you think am I, Johanna? What good have I really done during the war?"

"You saved people," she answers before she adds hesitantly, "You saved me."

Gale turns to her again. Both of them must remember that time when Gale's rescue mission in the Capitol kept her alive. "That had been a call of duty," he says.

"I know. But I was the first one you'd saved." _Not Peeta. Not even Annie_, she wants to argue. Johanna hates this brief demonstration of weakness but she has to go on. "And no matter what you say, I won't forget that while I live. So suck it up."

Gale looks like he is thinking of the right words in response to her statement. Then he laughs, offering her the champagne, but Johanna just stares at him.

"Are you thinking of her right now?" she asks, trying to decide whether she wants an honest answer or a comforting lie.

"Not really."

She waits.

Gale turns to her, his eyes a weary shade of gray. "I try not to. Because when I do, I feel only repulsion for what I've done."

"Because of what happened to her sister?"

He does not speak. Hostility wells up in Johanna's chest, a newfound antagonism for Katniss. It is more of a whisper the next time she speaks.

"You don't see that she's still keeping you down."

For the second time, Gale confirms her words by silence. He takes another swig from the bottle. Johanna decides to go on a roll.

"Your self‒incrimination stems from the fact that Katniss blamed you for everything messed up in her life but that's her problem alone. Stop it because you, of all people, have the best shot at having a better life and that chance will be in vain if you keep on underestimating your worth." She pauses to breathe. "And find someone else, that won't be very hard. You're one of the hottest guys in Panem, for crying out loud!" she finishes with an air of exasperation.

"Really?"

Johanna stops. All those words and what only comes to his mind is the last part, leading her to conclude that he already dismissed the subject. She snatches the bottle from his grip, all the while futilely putting all her feelings of embarrassment and annoyance in the glare she is giving him. "You heard me," she says with a grimace before taking two large gulps.

Gale smiles. She passes him the bottle. They both fall casualties to silence again, their gazes away from each other and into the trees by the lake.

"Do you know why I saved you first?" he asks, several fallen leaves later.

She answers with an "Hmmm."

"Because I saw you almost hairless," he grins. "No one amused me that much in a long time. You look like a creature of the Capitol."

Johanna turns and whacks his arm. "I could kill you right now."

Gale's face lights up as his grin persists. "Your hair's a bit longer than I've seen it," he finally remarks.

Instinctively, Johanna touches a few strands. She thinks of something light to say but backs out. "I think I'm gonna stay away from that girl during the war," she says, somber for the first time. "Awhile. If my hair's longer, I might hate the world less."

Gale gazes at her, eyes speaking of an emotion that is far from pity. It has been so long since someone respected her in the truest sense of the word. And it scares Johanna. Her face shifts to the other side because she does not want him to see whatever reaction she's making.

When she thinks her face is not going to give her away, she looks back at him. He is staring again at the newly restored bridge, his stare beyond it and probably into grander dreams. The trepidation she harbors several minutes ago slowly dissipates as she absorbs the achingly beautiful sight. A sense of pride resting tranquilly on Gale's face, Johanna realizes she wants to see more of that happiness. She decides to stay quiet for once and allows herself to enjoy the view, too.

Sometimes the night is even less frightening, with the moon and in places like these. Johanna reaches for the wine.

"Gale," she whispers.

He does not even bother to hide the surprise etched on his face. It is the first time, she thinks, that she has called him his name. Like her an hour ago, Gale appears to have lost his ability to speak.

"Katniss is one unfortunate girl," she states firmly. "She didn't have you."

Gale smiles again — sincerely this time. It somehow made up for his indifference to what she said about Katniss a while ago. Then he jumps down and offers his hand to her. "Let's go. Estelle must be bored already."

With that, she takes his hand and they walk toward the waiting cab.


	8. Diversionary Games

**************A/N**: After this, I'll probably take a break from the story. Sorry, guys. I've revised the chapters. Added some of Annie in Three. Changed title of Four. Song: All This Time (OneRepublic). BTW, the entire songs from which the lines are gotten don't really talk about the chapter. I only want the specific parts.

* * *

**Diversionary Games**

* * *

_We got all these words_

_Can't waste them on another_

**GALE** finds it hard to concentrate.

This morning Paylor called and demanded that he attend another convention in the Capitol next week. He knows enough not to argue with her because he has seen the president in action and he had to admit she is a character. It is not as if he does not enjoy learning new things on those conventions either.

But Gale knows Paylor is preparing him. For something.

He recalls his last conversation with her when she visited District Two; he complained about her hard‒to‒abide‒by demands, telling her that he still has so much to do with restoring the district and that he could not simply abandon his projects just so he could attend any social function she commands him to attend. There was that piercing stare directed at him when Paylor gave a slight hint of her plans.

"_Be patient, Hawthorne. All of these will be of use to you. In time. I'm almost very certain of that."_

It's been in his mind since then. And now the last sentence rings in his ears incessantly. What was Paylor so certain about? She keeps throwing him at different events in Panem, knowing fully he is not sociable — at least by Capitol standards. Paylor does not even go to those affairs herself and does not ask anything about them.

Eventually he sees a pattern. In those occasions, he meets people. And he isn't thinking about the proverbially influential type. No, it is the interesting ones — individuals who made significant contributions in the war but had not been vastly recognized, rebel or not.

He shakes his head. The folder he is holding lands on his desk with a soft thud. He is in the main office today because they just wrapped up their latest project. Technically, he is on vacation for a week but Gale wants to make sure that he does not leave any pending work. And the four‒day retreat he plans to spend with his mom and his siblings is going to be enough.

"Are you sure you don't want to go home now? I'm telling you, everything's gonna be fine here," Rick tells Gale in a roguishly serious manner while he is slumped on the couch, playing something in his phone.

"I am. Besides I won't have anything to do in the apartment."

"I meant at Iris Hill. You know, spend as much time with your family," Rick mutters, his face darkening. "You're lucky you still have them."

Rick had told him that all of his family died in the war but it is all Gale knows about them. Rick refuses to talk and he needs to respect that.

He shrugs. "The kids are still at school and Mom doesn't want me to help her with anything," Gale says.

"You can hunt."

Gale almost sneers at Rick. It has been long since he last went hunting; it was before the war with Katniss. After that, he had been busy drifting away from everything that reminded him of her. Started to pick up what is left of his splintered self.

He did not go back to Thirteen after she killed Coin. There is not much left to go back to. So his snares and other hunting equipment were probably destroyed. He is not the type to keep things sentimentally anyways.

His face shifts to Rick. "I don't know how to hunt anymore," he smirks.

"Shame," Rick says, without looking up from his phone.

Gale drums his fingers on the desk. He picks the folder again, deciding not to answer. Rick however turns out to have prepared a more _pressing_ matter to discuss with him.

"I still don't get why you're still here. You have a week‒long vacation," he says after just a few minutes of privileged silence.

"Told you I have nothing to do there," Gale insists, flipping open the folder.

Rick's face twists into a grin of mischief. "Why can't you just admit that you want to see more of Johanna?"

"That's getting old, man."

Rick laughs. "And you're getting more obvious."

He shakes his head and laughs, checking the clock on the wall to see if both hands have already pointed straight to the topmost number. If he is waiting for lunch break, it should not be attributed to lack of food.

After that fateful night more than two months ago, Johanna has been a common presence in his everyday existence. They hang out, just the two of them trying out every diner, restaurant, and café in District Two. Once, both of them had been late for their afternoon duties because Johanna had the sudden urge to try a rare dish in a freshly built diner that touches the very edge of the district.

Sometimes they go out on nights when they have no productive things to do. Gale takes her with him to his own drinking sessions with Rick and the other guys who he hangs out well enough. Estelle tags along, too — but only when Gale assures her that Rick is not going to come. They wander the streets during those nights, ultimately drinking in bars or just chatting with liquor store owners while they empty wine bottles.

He and Johanna have never been too intoxicated to go far beyond foolish. When he senses that she is reaching the boundary between tipsy and very drunk, he stops drinking. One of them should always be sober enough. Then he takes Johanna home.

Gale's lips form a handsome curve that is directed at the wall opposite him. With Johanna, he is far different from the person that he was before the war. He did not think it would ever happen again.

What a change.

Gale finally rises from his chair when he catches Rick glancing furtively at him. "I'm going," he informs him before striding to the door.

Perhaps he will just have to walk the streets to wind down.

ooOoo

**THE** sky is sullen, forewarning imminent rainfall. Only a few people can be seen walking on the street, mostly in a hurry. Gale continues to amble along the sidewalk lined by an assortment of fashionably designed shops. If it rains, he will just take shelter inside one of them.

And he does when the first drops of precipitation fall on him. By good chance, he happens to stand outside a café. A server immediately attends to him, courteously guiding him to one of the curved couches on the elevated part of the cafe. He is checking his watch when a smooth hand caresses the back of his neck.

It's Margaux.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Gale," she says softly, sitting opposite him on the couch. Gale has almost forgotten how honeyed Margaux's voice can be. Soft spoken, reminding him of her lifestyle.

Margaux is the daughter of District Two's mayor. They met at one of those extravagant social functions that he has to attend. Well, she was actually introduced to him by her father. Bored and exhausted, he merely shook her hand and walked away. But that only ignited Margaux who successfully maneuvered him into staying the night at her apartment.

"Nice seeing you, too, Margaux." Gale regards her body without an ounce of shame. He knows every perfect curve, every hidden piece of her.

"I'm hosting a party tonight," she says, eyes conveying her resolute streak. The typical socialite that she is, Margaux always gets what she wants; although Gale has to acknowledge that her tactics are different. Yes, different. It is what eventually lured him to her.

He thought her well‒refined ways extend to the subject of sex. But on the night they met, Margaux made it clear that she did not mind joining his harem. Gave him the classic excuse women tell him — that she just wanted to confirm what the others say about him. She was gentle but determined, and he was lonely and desperate for Katniss. And God, but Gale really has a certain weakness for mayors' daughters.

Needless to say, he fucked her that night.

"I'm busy," he declines firmly.

"You're always busy," she sighs. "You really need to get a life, Gale."

Get a life. Women, they come and go for Gale. But they do not last long.

Some of them became too attached. Obsessed. Drowned in the illusion that they could control his reins. It's kind of a dealbreaker for Gale. If it is any consolation, he had warned those women early on of what they have gotten into.

Margaux had been one of them, although she took his rejection with impeccable flair. But it only sickened him more.

Gale stands when he sees that the rain has stopped. He opens his wallet to leave some money, feeling regret for the food he is not going to eat. He turns to Margaux who has already gotten up, too. Her eyes roam his body just as shamelessly as he did a while ago.

"See you tonight," she whispers, brushing smooth his ruffled shirt. Then she tiptoes and gives him a full on kiss. Gale lets her, allowing himself a quick respite from all that is burdening him. Margaux, Gale amusingly realizes, still tastes first class.

His hands hold her hips then roughly push her away. This does not faze Margaux who dedicates a sly smile to him.

He turns his back and goes for the door, unconcerned with all the gapes he is getting from the onlookers.

ooOoo

**A** sulky Johanna flops on the chair opposite Gale. Her eyebrows are scrunched too tightly that they might be better off as one grumpy line. She must have had a bad day but he does not bother to speak; Johanna will open like a book when she is more relaxed.

"You haven't ordered yet," she notices, her voice a bit too calm.

It is definitely Johanna's bad day today.

"I didn't realize you're gonna be late," he explains.

"Way to add to the things you didn't realize," she says, rolling her eyes. Her voice becomes higher than normal, too.

He becomes aware of the awkward silence prevailing in the diner and looks to see that every face has turned toward them. They are in Adam's and, as a rule, no one bothers anyone as long as they are not causing trouble — which is what Johanna is perfectly doing at the moment. But they frequent this diner so much now that the patrons have grown accustomed to seeing them, even to hearing Johanna laugh at the top of her voice.

This is new. He however settles on not speaking.

She scoffs. Her arms fold on her chest, eyes glaring at the window. "What now? Are we gonna go have lunch or am I hoping too much?"

He feels a slight twinge of exasperation at the scornful remark but he and Johanna should not be irate at the same time. Besides, this conversation is doubtlessly inconsequential.

"Is anything wrong?" he asks instead. Johanna is not the type to be consoled, but Gale is a jerk if he is just going to ignore her tantrums.

Johanna goes still.

"Don't," she states with dangerous quiet, " — little girl me. I am not Katniss."

Maybe she must have gotten on the wrong side of the bed this morning but Gale has spider webs hanging inside his brain, too. He looks at her, employing the same old stare he used to bully anyone into leaving him alone.

"I guess no one told you, but you are a girl. Don't expect me to treat you that way because you," he hisses, " — can't even take yourself seriously."

He truly must be a jerk.

Her angry glare torments him because Gale does not know what to make of this situation. All he wanted an hour ago was to be with her innocently but they are here, arguing. He really must not be very good with words because he is messing it all up.

Johanna stands, forcibly pulling her bag toward her. Then she walks out the door and leaves an utterly frustrated Gale. He roughly combed his hair, undecided whether to follow her or not but then decides to let her go, noting how she really needs to cool down. It leaves him reflecting how, after all these years, he is still a complete idiot when it comes to women.

He tries to recall if he had done anything that might have pissed her off but nothing comes to mind. It makes him consider that maybe problems at work are the ones nettling her because what else could have irritated Johanna?

Between the two of them, Gale has always been the listener and he is fine with it. Because of Johanna's innate lack of reticence, he has found out so much about the operations happening in her office. He has learned about certain unequal power relations not only among the officials but also against the locals.

It was infuriating when Gale first heard about it. The fight for equality and justice that spurred the insurgency had appeared to be all in vain. Johanna told him that it is not as grave as it sounds. She also warned him to steer clear of this issue yet and focus on his own problems. It's hard but he forces himself to set it aside. Anyway, she informed him that she is trying to work alone, if possible and so‒called legal, but she has never told him her plans. So he just lets her be.

Gale gets up, reversing his decision not to pursue her. She probably has not taken a cab yet. This area is after all typically deserted.

He sees her walking slowly away from the diner. Her head is slightly bowed, like looking down on the ground eases everything. And Johanna seems so lost. The realization slams hard into Gale. For weeks now, he is convinced that Johanna is tougher than everyone he has known. Why the hell did he not see it?

He runs to catch up with her, more frustrated than ever. His fast pace slows down when she is near enough to hear him.

"Hey," he speaks tentatively. Johanna does not turn nor does she stop walking. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier."

She snorts. "Because sorry really takes back what I just heard from you. I can't even remember it," she laughs bitterly.

Gale does not speak as he waits for her to continue. Johanna is words personified. But she keeps on traipsing, keeps on ignoring him for a little longer. Then she goes to stare at the horizon.

"I hate you right now, but… Guess you're all I have."

Gale wants to smack himself for being thoughtless. Johanna continues.

"I hate it when people take me less seriously."

He looks down at her face. The crystalline eyes that sometimes enthrall him convey how adrift Johanna feels now. He voices his thoughts.

"Don't worry, this isn't new. I've been lost ever since I've won the Games," she mutters.

A cab runs past them but they pay no attention to it. They go on trudging the earth beside the cemented street. Johanna kicks a middle‒sized stone that stands on her way. Then it starts to drizzle and Gale stupidly remembers that it rained this morning. He silently curses himself for not hailing the cab.

They take shelter under a tree that does not really protect them from the rain. He takes off his jacket and offers it to Johanna who does not seem to mind it. She is still unbelievably silent so Gale tries to ask about the thing that is bothering him about her.

"How's work?"

She smirks. "Insensitive, aren't we?"

He's about to explain when she signals him to stay silent, holding up one of her palms. "This morning I submitted a report about Fairstone to them. Thought I'd finally be able to convince them to take another look at it. Then I found it near the shredder. Still has the folder clipped close."

"What did you do?" he asks.

"I kind of made a scene. Told them they are nothing but insufferable smarty‒pants. That's why I'm late."

It is Gale's turn to smirk. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Yeah, that again," she chuckles before turning solemn again. "I just…I didn't think it would sting that much."

Something close to rage wells in Gale's chest. He wants to punch those bastards now.

Johanna's face twists into a grimace. "Okay," she says. "Guess I'm sorry, too. For what happened at Adam's."

Gale gazes at her, deciding that to console her now will not make her feel better. Instead, he mimics what she said. "Because sorry really takes back what I just heard from you," he quips.

She laughs, relief crashing down upon them. Gale thinks Johanna needs a break, too. It has been settling into his mind for a few minutes now especially that the awkward bubble is gone.

His eyes land on her face, searching for any sign of possible refusal. Christ, he is getting more doubtful these past few weeks. "Come with me," he says.

The slight woman that she is, Johanna must lift her head to look at him. Her eyes become rounder. "That's it? No frills, no add‒ons or pickup lines? Boy, you're fast." She laughs, melodic this time.

Gale chuckles. "I'm gonna stay at Iris Hill for a few days," he says, knowing full well that Johanna's aware of what he's talking about.

If possible, her laugh becomes easier on the ear. "Are you serious? You're taking me to your family for a few days? What would people say?" she expresses melodramatically. Despite their war‒induced popularity, nobody in this district cares except for the people at the liquor stores, bars, and places like Adam's. Maybe because he and Johanna do not give a damn either.

"Okay," Johanna speaks after some seconds. And here he is thinking she might probably decline. "Warn your mom, though. Your siblings might learn a new language from me." She grins toothily.

For a split sec, Gale realizes how childlike Johanna can be. He forces himself to reply. "Don't get too cautious. We once lived in the Seam," he grins.

Another cab comes and they are wise enough to wave at it. Before they can get inside though, the rain pours hardly and soaks them that there is no way they would be able to get to their offices without embarrassing themselves.

He tells the driver to take Johanna home first, giving him the address. He then turns to her, intending to ask if she is okay, but is distracted at once by the wet fabric of her once‒loose tunic now clinging in a suggestive way to her curves. She has taken his jacket off, seeing as it's more soaked than the thing it covers.

Gale suddenly feels the need to take a cold shower immediately.

He forces himself to gather all his resolve just so he does not grab Johanna and take her right on the backseat of the car. As much as he wants to ravish her, he does not want to push her away in the eventual fashion that he does to other women.

Maybe he needs Margaux tonight after all.

ooOoo

**MARGAUX'S** moan echoes around her apartment as Gale's hands expertly touch her right there on the carpeted floor. They had not even made it to the couch. Her nails dig deep in his shoulders, evidently trying to add more scars to his back as though they are not enough.

If it is up to him, Margaux will not be foreplayed. He'd dive straight inside her — no frills, no silly gimmicks. But Gale owes her that pleasure for all the guile he lets her into every time he sleeps with her.

He bites her neck not so gently, going down until his mouth finds one firm peak. His tongue flicks it roughly enough to elicit another moan from her.

Gale lifts his head to gaze at Margaux's lovely face, her soft body sweetly opening for him. Before she can even say his name, he drives forward. Hard.

Margaux's moans become short, quick gasps as he goes faster, a slow contraction around him. He slams her harder than ever, gripping her hips as he does so.

"Gale — " she gasps, unable to finish her sentence with words when he fills her again. And again.

Margaux screams his name when she reaches her release. It is not long before Gale's turn and he bites the area just below her collarbone, careful not to speak of anyone's name.

When the heat subsides and enough energy is restored, Gale breaks apart from her. He starts to put on his clothes, wryly thinking that he can easily hammer Margaux even with all the pieces of fabric on.

From behind, her arms snake around his waist up to his chest. Gale knows what is coming next — Margaux will ask him to stay for the night, teasing him in all possible ways. He'll decline and make an empty promise to make it up to her next time but they both know it's not gonna happen.

"Stay. Just this once," she purrs. Her hands begin to go down again but he stops her before she reaches her target.

"You know I won't," Gale says, telling her the truth this time. It surprises him, too.

He pries her hands away from him and goes toward the door. Gale does not want to see another expression of hurt just because of his rejection. People like Margaux are not used to being rejected after all. She speaks though before he can touch the doorknob.

"Someday you're gonna find your own downfall, Gale. When that comes, I hope you'd break even more."

Gale shakes his head, unperturbed. He smirks again. "Believe me, Margaux, I already did."

He opens the door and walks out into the night.


	9. The Case of

**A/N:** So I have changed the village's name again. Sorry for that. Song: A Love That Will Last (Renee Olstead) (Trying not be lame.)

* * *

**9A. The Case of...**

* * *

_I want a little something more_

_Don't want the middle_

_Or the one before_

**JOHANNA'S** eyes have been lingering at the ceiling for a half‒hour before she realizes the foolishness behind the action. Part of her wants to go out of the apartment so she can escape from her own decadent thoughts, but a bigger part of her wants her in complete slumber because she is going to Iris Hill tomorrow.

Iris Hill is the village farthest to the district's center. Logically speaking, it is the most unaffected village and probably the richest when it comes to resources.

She filed for a week‒long leave yesterday. It's her first time to do so, since she does not have any reason to take a leave before. Anyway, she visits Four during weekends so she has not yet suffered scheduling hassles.

She and Gale are going to spend four days with his family before he goes to attend to some conference at the Capitol. But, with her recent squabble at the office, Johanna needs more time to not see the assheads at work. She plans to spend the remaining days of her vacation to see Annie and Nico. The anticipation makes her smile.

The trip to Iris Hill takes three hours, solid. Gale's mother demanded that they have to arrive before lunch so she and Gale have to be at the bus station as early as eight o'clock. That is why it is crucial for her to sleep now.

But Johanna cannot sleep. All she can see whenever she shuts her eyes is the allure of Gale's smile. It insinuates the inevitable that the mere thought of it burns her more fiercely. And if it is not enough, certain images torment her mind. Certain emotions, too. The blanket turns hard, lean, and strong on her skin, encircling her elfin form. Small shivers run across her shoulders and up behind her neck. It does not help that Johanna realizes how long it has been since she last —

She resorts to staring back at the ceiling again.

_This is silly_, she thinks.

_Of course, it is silly. Stupid even_, a voice purrs at the back of her mind. Gale is so within her reach and all she can do is harass him within the recesses of her mind. She can do better than that. They have gone far from the shades of war, or at least far enough for them to forget the people that really, really need to be forgotten.

_Sure you're not deluding yourself?_ the voice hums.

No, it cannot be. No, no. She shakes her head even though she is the only living person in her apartment. She and Gale are growing together, are they not? For months now, she is starting to see Gale for what he truly is. There are a lot of things she can picture him with. He was once that sulky little hunter, miner, rebel, snare‒maker turned into bomb‒designer, soldier. Now he is a government official, made even darker by the bitterness brought upon by his so‒called failure to save Katniss. Who knows what more?

_He can be yours, you fool_, a part of her brain taunts. For God's sake.

_Not convinced yet?_ The evil voice laughs and another image comes into her mind. Something sinful.

"Shut up!" Johanna finally snarls at the poor ceiling.

ooOoo

**ONLY** a few people can be seen around the bus station since it's still a little too early. Gale is sitting alone on one of the benches. One of his hands is resting on the small bag across his lap while the other one is massaging his neck. Dark circles appear around his closed eyes, silently telling her that he too did not sleep well last night.

She walks toward him, unspeaking, and goes to sit on the chair beside him.

"Johanna?" Gale says, eyes still closed.

"What a zombie," she chuckles. "How long did you sleep last night?"

He opens his eyes and frowns when he sees that she is wearing a pair of dark glasses. "Like you're the one to talk," he mutters, lifting his hand to take her glasses off but she avoids his touch.

This is exactly what she was thinking about last night.

"Don't even try again," she warns him. Johanna plans to sleep the entire bus ride so she can remove the darn glasses once they get to their destination.

Gale raises his eyebrow, but says nothing. He gets up, one hand picking her bag while the other holding his own, and walks toward the nearest bus.

For a moment, she simply stares at him. She notices the undeniable trace of impression that seems to follow him whenever he walks away. She had not quite observed this little thing back when they were in Thirteen because every time they meet, someone else is always around, so she probably did not attribute it solely to him.

Gale twists lightly on her direction, his gorgeous face marred by the frown and the dark circles around his eyes. Johanna does not know what he must see on her face.

"What?" he says. "C'mon, it'll leave in a few minutes."

Johanna glares at him because if she does not, he might notice the heat rushing up her cheeks. He does not, though, since he has already turned his back on her and toward the bus. She places her glare on the side of the vehicle instead and quickly follows him.

They sit on the middle side, Johanna beside the window. Johanna is not in the mood to speak and Gale does not appear keen on opening up a conversation either. There is an air of somnolence around them and neither seems to resist it.

Johanna relaxes on her back as Gale does so. He closes his eyes and remains stationary — until the bus moves. He shifts his body in a way that faces directly at her. Then he opens his eyes and catches her staring at him again, too late to change direction.

"Is anything wrong with my face?" he says, the trace of suppressed laugh in his voice.

"You're too beautiful," she sluggishly jests, eliciting the laugh from him.

_Hmm_, Johanna thinks as her eyes give in to the pressure of slumber.

She wakes to the movement of someone gently shaking her. The feeling of being tired is still weighing her down, but she manages to open her eyes — only to see Gale's shoes. She recalls that she leaned against the window before she drifted off to sleep. What she cannot remember is the arm lazed across the back of her neck, without which she would have fallen on the floor.

"Hey," Gale murmurs. "We're almost there."

Her face lifts and gazes blearily at him. He appears to have awakened a few minutes earlier than she has because he seems a bit refreshed already. She sits up and fixes her hair that is slightly ruffled from leaning against Gale for hours.

Johanna looks outside the window and sees tall, canopy trees lining the road on one side and vast tracts of grassland on the other side, towered upon by the mountains in the distance. Johanna turns to the front and sees that the road passes through a hill where modestly built houses are scattered. In a few minutes, the bus will be running on higher ground. Johanna looks back at Gale.

"This place is really far‒off," she says. "How are the people coping?"

"Outer villages help each other out since they are far from the center," he says. "For instance, kids go to school here. In this village. And even though every village has its own kind of market, the next one has it bigger. More supplies. My mother occasionally goes there to purchase things not found in the market here."

"That still sounds inconvenient," Johanna points out.

"Why do you think we're trying to prioritize roads?" Gale asks, but Johanna knows it is more of an emphasis for her benefit. He stands making her realize that the bus has stopped.

"Let's go," he says, pulling their bags down before striding out. She steps out of the bus and the first thing she sees when she removes her glasses is a quaint house with a front porch not far away.

Gale's family awaits them.

ooOoo

**THE** knock Gale makes causes a high‒pitched scream that appears to come from inside the house. A girl's voice, apparently.

"He's here! Mom, Gale's here!"

Then footsteps. The next thing Johanna knows, a door opens and reveals four people — a woman and three children. Johanna is surprised to learn that the shrill scream came from the tiny being perched on her mother's arms. Upon seeing Gale, she squirms and reaches for him. With a laugh, Gale takes his sister in one arm as he leans down and hugs his mother in another. His brothers give their own contributions by punching somewhere in his body, which she knows Gale will never mind. All of their faces unquestionably show excitement for him. She is not in the place to speak right now.

"Mom, you've known Johanna. She was also in Thirteen with us," Gale says, all for the sake of proper introduction. Because they are all part of the rebellion and they come across one another in the underground district, but they did not even get the chance to get to know each other. Gale gazes at her and says, "My mom, Hazelle. And these are Rory and Vick and Posy."

All Johanna can do is smile at them. What is she supposed to say? Expect her to lose confidence in situations like these.

Hazelle smilingly approaches her. "Come inside. I am making Gale's favorite. I hope you like rhubarb stew."

She takes Johanna in the arm, cautiously so; it is as though Johanna is going to jerk it away. But Johanna finds herself letting Gale's mother guide her inside while Gale and his siblings make up for time lost.

The smell of Hazelle's kitchen assaults her senses the moment Johanna steps inside it. If it is the smell of rhubarb stew, she wonders how it is going to taste. She racks her brains as to why the food is familiar, but nothing comes to her mind. Hazelle leaves her side and goes to check the dish she is cooking. Johanna does not know what to do so she simply looks around.

The kitchen is neat, a sure sign that Hazelle does not commonly allow anyone in her territory. It is also complete — not grandiose complete, but reasonable complete. Gale really must have given his mother something to look forward to every morning.

Johanna feels like she has to make up to Hazelle. She asks her how long they have been living there.

"A few months now. We moved here just before the kids started school," Hazelle says before she takes a sip of the stew. Her eyes return to Johanna. "How about you?"

"I went here almost a year ago. Been working here ever since," Johanna answers.

"What happened to Seven?"

Johanna answers. "Change of scenery, I guess."

Hazelle nods. She takes a potholder lying on the counter and uses it to transfer the pot of stew from the stove into the counter. She then takes a middle‒sized bowl from the cabinet, which she fills with the stew. Johanna realizes she is being useless so she offers to take the bowl into the dining table outside.

The dining area is separated from the living room by a dividing cabinet, a television in its center. The other parts are vacant and open so they serve as windows that reflect whatever is happening on the other room.

Gale is sitting carelessly on the floor, Posy on his lap, Rory and Vick, on his sides. They are laughing at something one of the boys said. Johanna is about to put the bowl on the table and turn back when Gale lifts his head and meets her eyes.

For a second he looks surprised, the remnants of a previous laugh on his face. Then he sees the bowl on her hands and something passes through his eyes. Johanna cannot place it but something in that gaze makes her want for something cold.

She hastily lays the bowl and walks back into the kitchen.

ooOoo

"**WHAT** are you thinking?"

Johanna twists toward the direction of the door. She is sitting recklessly on the railing of the porch at the back of the house, marveling at the trees that inhabit this part of the district. Her eyes land on Gale.

"Sleep," she says.

The lunch has gone smoothly, or — now that she comes to think of it — rather vibrant. It is not at all surprising, given that the table is filled with children, Gale the eldest.

"Why don't you take a nap? Mom's already arranged your room," Gale suggests.

"Where am I sleeping?" she asks. From what she has estimated, the house can possibly have three rooms, at most.

"In the kitchen," Gale answers sarcastically.

Johanna glares at him before she explains herself. "I meant am I inconveniencing one of your siblings?"

"No." Gale shakes his head. "You're inconveniencing me."

"Are you going to answer me seriously or should I choke the answer from you?" she bites at him. Damn him for making fun at her expense.

Gale laughs as he approaches her. "Mom and Posy share a room. Rory and Vick, too. That leaves my room for you to sleep in."

"What about you?" Johanna asks.

"I'll sleep with Rory and Vick."

"Aren't you tired?" she asks again. After all, they both lack rest.

"The boys went to the market to buy some wires and ropes. We're making something," he says, the last sentence spoken a bit more quietly.

Snares, definitely. This suddenly piqued Johanna's curiosity. Gale is the best snare‒maker she has ever heard of — Katniss made painfully sure to cement that fact. She almost allows herself a grimace.

"I've changed my mind. I'm not sleepy," she says. Why lose the chance to watch him make one now?

He smiles. "Are you sure? You can always watch me make one anytime, you know," he says as if he can read her mind.

She shakes her head. Gale walks toward her and sits on the opposite side of the railing. He leans against the wooden column, faces her directly.

"Any plans on using those snares?" she asks.

She does not know if Gale still hunts. It's not like that kind of topic just pops into the conversation and she hasn't asked him anything about hunting. If she can avoid it, Johanna does not want to hear the name Katniss coming out of his lips.

"Possibly. I haven't checked the forest here yet, though. Do you want to?"

Anything good about trees is an indisputable subject for Johanna. But Gale's question does not sound fine on her ears. She does not like the implication that Gale has seen a new hunting partner in her — even though Gale probably does not mean it that way. It makes her feel like she is only good as a fallback.

"I prefer being alone," she says. And, as if it is not enough, "And I chop trees. I don't hunt."

It irks her, the way everything about Gale seems to be tied in with Katniss. No one needs to tell her that, and it is worse because the unspoken details are the most aggravating.

Rhubarb stew. Of course. She remembers it now. Once, she and Katniss bumped into an old woman in Thirteen who, Katniss informs her, made the most delicious stewed rhubarb in the world — one of Katniss' favorite dishes, too.

"There's no need to lash out on me," he says coolly. The atmosphere around them becomes chilled with every word they throw at each other. Johanna suddenly lost interest in the idea of watching him make snares.

She goes down the railing and walks inside.

ooOoo

**SHE** opens her eyes to the darkness that surrounds her. It must have been late in the night because the only sounds she hears are those from the woods. There is not even a slight indication that anyone in this house is still awake.

She chose to sleep the remains of the afternoon after that spat with Gale. Better than to see his annoying face, she quickly looked for his room. It is a clean room and almost no indication that Gale ever slept there, nothing to further irritate her, so she slept easily.

Her stomach produces a grumbling sound. Johanna decides to trespass the kitchen in the hope that that there is something edible left for her to gobble. She carefully climbs down the stairs.

Light coming from the kitchen tells her that she is not the only one in need of food. She enters to find Hazelle covering something on the table. The woman must sense her presence because she turned almost at once.

"I'm sorry I slept through dinner," Johanna blurts out.

Hazelle smiles. "I've just prepared something in case you wake up."

"You didn't have to," she says a little timidly. When was the last time someone did that to her? She cannot recall anymore.

But Hazelle merely waves her hand. "Nonsense," she says. She then goes to get two plates from the cabinet and places them on the table afterward. "Here, let me join you."

Johanna accepts the other plate and sits down. For a while, they are silent.

"I'm sorry if my son doesn't know how to entertain his guests." Hazelle laughs.

Johanna smiles, not keen on talking. But the woman continues.

"He slept early, too. Bushed, you could say. Both of you must really be working hard on your jobs since you look worn out," Hazelle says.

Johanna smiles again at Hazelle. She really does not want to talk to Gale's mom.

_Don't go there, Johanna._

But it has already staggered Johanna, the way a painful memory of her own mother can effortlessly resurface. She resorts to looking down at her food.

"Gale is planning to go hunting tomorrow. Are you going with him?" Hazelle keeps on breaking the silence.

She wonders how much Hazelle knows about Gale and Katniss. But if Johanna knows so much, what doesn't a mother know?

"I don't think so," she finally answers. When Hazelle continues to look at her, she tries to think of an excuse. "But I'm probably gonna explore your woods."

"I don't think that's a good idea — "

"I'm gonna be fine," Johanna snaps.

Hazelle gives her a worried look, but she does not push. _Good_, she thinks. She might not be able to counter the woman the next time.

"If you say so. I'll leave you to your food now. Just search the fridge if you need more," Hazelle says gently as she gets up from her chair.

Johanna heaves a sigh of relief when the footsteps died away.

ooOoo

**A** rather peculiar scene greets Johanna as she walks into the kitchen. Posy is sitting on the table and looks very engrossed in stirring a cup of coffee while her mother is nowhere to be seen.

She scans the kitchen. The early trace of a good sunny day passes through the only window in the room. It makes Johanna hope that maybe something good will happen today.

"Hi," Johanna starts, greeting Gale's little sister. "You look busy."

She takes the seat nearest to the girl. Posy stops stirring and examines the coffee. "Is this fine?" she asks.

Johanna pretends to study the coffee before she nods. She is surprised when Posy pushes the cup right in front of her.

"That's for you. Mom says you're going out into the woods alone so I made you coffee."

She has to admit it is a sweet little thing. Johanna takes a sip. Not bad. She is wondering where Hazelle is when the back door opens to reveal the woman carrying a small basket of vegetables. And an axe.

"I figured that if you're still determined to go to the forest today, I might ask our old neighbor to lend his chopping axe. Gale also left you some rope. I'm gathering you'd need one?"

Johanna finds herself gaping at Hazelle. Has Gale's mom really gone to that extent for her? These thoughts can really render one's tongue temporarily dysfunctional.

"It's too much," she mutters.

Hazelle stops her preparation of the vegetable and lifts her face to stare at her. "Consider it a Seam attitude. When you live your whole life in fear and uncertain of what tomorrow might bring and you know and understand that another person had it worse than you, you tend to help that person," she says heavily then chuckles. "It is, for me. For Gale. For people like us."

What kind of response does Johanna give to that? She finds it difficult to formulate one.

"So does that mean that you'll bring food, too, like what Katniss does?" Posy butts in.

Did — not does. Not anymore. Johanna feels a fierce need to correct Posy. But Posy is just as innocent as any six‒year‒old kid. She gives her a brief smile before she turns to Hazelle. "Thank you. I'm just gonna change."

She flees to her room as quickly as goddamn possible.

ooOoo

**THWACK**!

The tree gives its first sign of surrendering to her. She takes a glance at the rope tied to it and then to the rope's other end, which is tied to another tree located farther. Then she looks up to check if her tree is already starting to swing.

A drop of sweat flows down the side of her forehead, but Johanna can only slightly give attention to it. In fact, most of her attention is not on what she is doing. Voices swirl in her head and they try to form a vortex that gradually expands every minute, threatening to overpower her sanity.

"_So does that mean that you'll bring food, too, like what Katniss does?"_

THWACK!

This is something she has not foreseen. At first, all she wanted was fun — apart from the uncontainable desire to give Gale a lesson. A distraction. Something to pass her time while she picks up her life. She thought the road to him is as clear as glass, but the further she goes the more she trips over the pieces Katniss left.

THWACK!

"_Possibly. I haven't checked the forest here yet, though. Do you want to?"_

And if she agreed to going with him, what would it have looked like? All Johanna can see are two nasty scenarios. If it did not go well, the day would have been ruined and it is going to be an awkward subject for both of them. But she is sure it would have gone well. That is the second picture — and it is far worse. Because it is another possibility for Gale to see her as a replacement.

The way she and Gale are behaving, it is not hard to observe that right now they are in limbo, contained in an amorphous stage of avoidance and deception.

THWACK!

"_Come inside. I'm making Gale's favorite. I hope you like rhubarb stew."_

She liked the food. Really. She tasted it out of curiosity, knowing it is his favorite. She tasted it not knowing it is also Katniss'. How would she have reacted if she remembered it a little earlier? She chuckles. Maybe she and Gale would now both crave for it, the irony.

It's sickening. If they hit it off, he is just going to associate her from those of the past. Like giving her clothes that Katniss discarded.

THWACK!

"_What's it to you?"_

He said it then. What's it to her now?

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

The tree gives an alarming final sway and Johanna walks briskly away as it falls to the direction where the other end of the rope is tied. The thunderous collapse almost shocks her but she does not look back as she continues to stride. She will return for the tree, she is sure of that.

But for now, she needs to get away.


End file.
